Just breathe. A friend and I commiserate over things we can't control. That is her advice to me when she senses me getting worked up. I throw it back at her when she shares feelings of being overwhelmed. Take a deep breath.

     My Granny has trouble breathing. That simple act. Inhale. Exhale. For her it is an effort. I sat with Granny today and visited while she took her breathing treatment.

     A visiting handbell choir shared with us tonight at church. One song written in 1995 was made popular by Michael W. Smith. Breathe.

     Maybe I need a breathing treatment of a different kind.

     I am thankful for...
...every breath that I take
...and that my Granny takes,
      and memories that she shares.
...family time at the zoo,
      at the factory,
      at cafe Du Monde,
      in the truck, and
      out to eat over the swamp.
...with my Mom and my girls...
... pictures taken
... old videos found, more laughter
... encouragement
... by the campfire...
      new oak benches made by my hubby and son,
      citronella candle,
... shared meals
... my kids with their grandparents and great-grandparents, treasured time
... in our kitchen...
      dishes rattling
      dishwasher humming
      new recipes
      chess bars enjoyed at home
      hubby's cooking carried in from the grill.
...reminders of the breath of heaven.
... always more...
2054 and counting
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  1. What a wonderful post... The older I get, the deeper my appreciation is for little things. I will keep your Grandmother in my prayers.

  2. Thank you sweet friend, prayers mean so much. Another thing to add to my list of things to give thanks for.


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